


You Need to Pay Attention, Potter

by sassy_cissa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, flangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 21:17:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10396374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassy_cissa/pseuds/sassy_cissa
Summary: Draco constantly tells Harry to be aware of his surroundings. Hell, Moody used to tell him…Constant vigilance. But does Harry listen? Of course not.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the 2017 hp_getlucky fest. Thanks to those who helped make it better...

"Where the hell is he now?"

Hermione Zabini looked up from the table in the intimate restaurant where she was sharing dinner with her husband. Blaise actually looked more irritated than Hermione did.

"Care to elaborate a bit, you arse?" Blaise snarled. "In case your memory vacated your head along with your manners, it's our anniversary."

"Well?" Draco put his hands on his hips, ignoring Blaise.

"Where is who?" Hermione asked, a frown between her brows. She actually looked very nice for a woman in her seventh month of pregnancy, but Draco wasn't feeling particularly generous.

He rolled his eyes. "Who the hell do you think?"

Hermione's frown deepened. "Harry? You mean Harry?"

"Give the woman a biscuit."

"Seriously, Draco." Blaise threw his cloth napkin on the table. "You're really starting to hack me off." He started to stand but his wife caught his elbow, holding him in his seat.

"He was going to meet you," Hermione said. "When he left the office, he was going to meet you at home. He planned to make a stop at the grocery, then he was going to cook you dinner."

Draco's heart began to pound in his throat. "When was this?"

She glanced at her watch. "At least three hours ago." A stricken look crept over her features. "Oh, Draco. You don't suppose..."

"Fuck!" Draco turned on the spot and disappeared.

oooOOOooo

It was cold, and the damp was creeping through Harry's skin into his muscles. His head hurt and he reached to rub the back of it, and realized his hands were bound at his lower back. Training kicked in and he went still, using his senses to assess the situation.

At first he thought it was dark but then he realized his eyes were covered, almost uncomfortably tightly, with a strip of cloth. He used his arms to test the strength of his bonds, which were also very tight, and his fingers, which were faintly numb, to feel along the rough rope. He was colder than he should have been. He felt carefully along his lower back and all he encountered was skin. Testing the muscles in his legs, he discovered they were bound as tightly as his arms. All right then; he was somewhere damp (he could hear water dripping onto a stone or concrete floor) he was hogtied, and he was nude. Dandy. If he got out of this, Draco was going to kill him.

He'd nagged Harry unmercifully about how clueless he was, and careless, and apparently his very cautious partner was absolutely right. "Your arrogance is going to get you killed," Draco had said just the month before. "You walk around like no one would dare do anything to 'almighty Potter', while there are still people out there who hate you." Harry had thought he was over-reacting. His job as an investigator for the DMLE occasionally got him a bit scraped up, but really, who was left that hated him personally? 

He tried to shift, his hip beginning to ache where it pressed into the floor. His hip bone was sharp, and the way he was laying didn't provide it much cushioning. 

"Ahh, look who's finally rejoined us?"

Harry stilled. He heard the sound of footsteps near his head, and he recognized the voice. 

Shit.

oooOOOooo

Draco landed on a dirt road, muffling the resulting crack of his apparition with a spell. It was raining, and he cursed under his breath, waving his wand and muttering a water dispelling charm before starting off toward what was left of the large, burnt out manor house at the top of the rise. A muffled 'whomp' sounded behind him, and he turned to find both Hermione and Blaise Zabini. Hermione was still wearing the fetching maternity robes in a shade of soft mauve, and as he watched she waved her wand, changing her high heels to sensible walking shoes. Blaise cursed explosively and set an umbrella charm over their heads.

"Could you keep your fucking voice down?" Draco hissed, then turned his glare onto Hermione. "And just what the fucking hell are you doing Apparating in your condition?"

Blaise threw his hands into the air. "Thank you!"

"I'm the one who approved the request to return, Draco." Hermione glared at him as she marched to join him on the road. It was something to behold, her pregnant belly leading the way. "Now, tell me what you know."

"I don't _know_ anything," he retorted. He held up his left hand. His platinum band gleamed in the dim light. "I let this bring me here." 

"That's right. They both have tracking spells, don't they?" Hermione asked. "But I thought Harry made you promise not to use it…"

Draco gave her a hard look, and she held up her hands. "Fine, extenuating circumstances. I get it." 

"How did you two know where to go?" Draco frowned between them.

"Tag-along spell." She pursed her lips and studied the rundown house in the distance. "Don't let me forget that we have to go back and pay the cheque."

Blaise huffed. "I'd have liked to finish eating my meal first."

She gave him a quelling look, then turned to Draco. "Why here?"

"I can only guess they think it will have some…extraordinary significance." His lip curled. "How should I know? They're all mental. I only know the tracking spell brought me here, and I'm going in." 

"Wait." Blaise stared at what was left of the old, Tudor style house with its blackened beams, mullioned windows and a stable with a sagging roof sitting behind the ruins in the distance. "This is…" He shot an alarmed look at Draco, who gave a short nod. 

Hermione stared, uncharacteristically the last to catch on. She called the current frustrating inability for her to keep up mentally 'pregnancy brain'. "Will you two please tell me what you're talking about?"

Draco sighed. "I imagine it would be more recognizable from the other side, where the graveyard is."

He watched as horror dawned on her features. "Oh, my God. We need Auror back-up."

"Hermione," Draco said urgently. "There isn't time. It's just a house. And we have to…" 

She ignored him and waved her wand, a silvery mist evolving to an otter appearing between them in the damp air. It studied her with bright, sentient eyes. "Chief Prosecutor Hermione Zabini summoning all available on-duty Auror's. Follow this Patronus immediately." The little animal gave her a dignified nod, as dignified as an otter could manage, then disappeared like a puff of smoke.

"And 'it's just a house'?" She glared at him. "Of all the stupid –" 

In the distance a loud, resonating crack sounded, echoing over the landscape. Draco took off at run toward the ruins, even as Hermione shouted behind him. 

"Wait for back-up!"

Footsteps sounded, pounding behind him.

"If you get me killed, you stupid son of a bitch," Blaise panted. "I'll haunt you and then when you die, I'll kill you again."

"Creative," Draco shot back, his running steps taking him ever closer to the house on the hill.

oooOOOooo

Harry flinched, feeling bits of masonry raining down on his face and bare shoulders. The explosion had been close enough that his ears were still ringing. The laugh that followed mingled with the uncomfortable resonance.

"Scared? You, the great and powerful Potter?"

"I think you mean a different wizard." Harry managed to keep his tone wry, even casual. "I never claimed to be the great and powerful anything." 

"But you didn't really need to, did you? The media sings your praises almost daily without any input from you at all."

The voice was moving around the room, and Harry tried to follow its movements, concentrating on raising a wandless shield between himself and his tormentor. He was apparently successful. When the next blast sounded not far from his face, nothing struck his skin.

"Well, that's interesting." The footsteps came closer. "That's a bit that didn't make it into the papers. Have you always been able to do wandless magic?"

Harry didn't answer.

"That will certainly limit our fun, won't it?"

"I'm tired of this." It was another voice, one Harry didn't recognize. "If you're going to kill him, just do it."

"That will be a bit difficult if he's been able to construct a shield," the first voice shot back. "Have any suggestions? No? Then just shut it." The steps came again, slowly, walking around him. Harry could hear him slowly circling behind him. "Well, I guess I understand what Draco see's in you, Potter. Much as it pains me to admit, that's a very nice arse." Unable to help it, instinctively Harry tightened his arse muscles and laughter rang around him. The steps continued. "You're nicely hung, too, which seems patently unfair. All of that press, and a big cock, too. Aw well, Draco always was a size queen." Harry heard the steps stop in front of him, sensed someone moving closer. "I wonder how much bigger it gets when you're hard? Shall we see? I doubt even you can resist the powers of a blow job."

"Oh, for Christ's sakes," the second voice groaned. "I didn't sign on to watch that."

"Then leave," the first man snapped. "I have no intention of denying myself something I've wanted for years. If I can figure out how to get through his shield…" The voice trailed away and Harry concentrated as hard as he could, imagining a thick wall between himself and the other occupants in the room.

There was a furtive step somewhere not far from him, not one of his captors, and Harry felt a sudden surge of alarm. 'Not yet,' he thought, hoping if it was rescue they'd be smart enough to wait. 'Wait until you know how many there are, if they're fully armed. I'm okay, just…'

"Touch him, and I'll remove your skin one inch at a time." The sharp, authoritative voice echoed through the room.

Harry sighed inwardly. Oh well, so much for that, then.

oooOOOooo

The ring on his finger had drawn Draco to the basement of the house. He didn't question it, but kept his back to a singed, paneled wall as he descended the steps from what had once been the kitchen. He could hear the voice when he was just steps from the bottom and he turned to Blaise, who looked at him with an expression that indicated he recognized the voice too. It wasn't a pleasure.

"Son of a bitch," he thought, then didn't wait any longer when the bastard threatened to put hands on his partner.

"Touch him, and I'll remove your skin one inch at a time," he snarled, his wand pointed into the face he hadn't seen since before the end of the war. 

Marcus Flint straightened, facing Draco with a delighted grin. "Well, well, well. Look who we have here." He gave Draco a mocking bow. "Welcome, Mr. Malfoy."

He heard Blaise on the stair behind him, a muttered 'Stupify' and 'Expelliarmus', and then the thud of a body hitting the floor. 

Again Flint laughed, apparently unconcerned about his partner in crime. "And Mr. Zabini! It's like a Slytherin reunion. Save the guest of honor, of course." He gestured toward Harry with his head. "He's something of a surprise naked, I must say. Who knew that lovely body was under all of those terrible, ill-fitting clothes?"

"You're outnumbered and out classed, Flint," Blaise said from Draco's shoulder. "Why don't you surrender and save Draco the trouble of trying to get blood out of his dragon skin boots."

"Oh, you are hilarious." Flint smirked. "I may be out numbered now that you've Stupified Nott. Although somehow 'Nott' and 'Stupify' seem to go together, don't they?" He shot his compatriot a dark look. "I knew you were a waste of time." He looked back at Draco, his eyes bright. "But I still hold the higher card, don't I?"

He waved his wand and Harry lifted slowly from the floor. Flint laughed and Draco felt a chill slip down his spine.

"Let your guard down, didn't you Potter?" Harry rose higher into the air, rotating until he was hanging upside down, about ten feet above the floor. "Worried about lover boy here, eh? How delicious."

"For Merlin's sakes, Flint, what do you want?" Draco took a step closer. "What's the point of this?"

Flint's eyes narrowed. "Ah, close enough, Draco." He made a slashing motion with his hand and it was like he'd cut a rope dangling Harry above the floor. He fell and Draco cried out. Flint stopped Harry just before his head slammed into the stones beneath him. "Make another move and I'll let his head split like a melon." Harry drifted higher again, and Draco saw his jaw tighten, saw his frustration with his helplessness. Draco knew there were some things Harry could manage wandlessly, but doubted freeing himself was one of them. "Now, wands on the floor." 

Draco glanced back at Blaise, and they both slowly bent and placed their wands on the floor.

"Flint," Blaise said. "Seriously, you were just allowed back in the country. What possible reason could there be for doing this? You're going to end up in Azkaban."

"Oh, we'll be gone long before anyone realizes what's happened. I'm sorry you're getting caught up in this, Blaise. The only people I planned to see on this trip were Potter, and Draco."

"For what?" Draco felt a surge of anger and it showed in his tone. "The only thing Potter did to you was kick your father's sorry arse."

"Draco." Harry sounded hoarse. "Don't provoke him."

"Oh, yes." Flint's eyes narrowed. "Gods forbid you provoke him. Well, too late for that, Potter. I've been _provoked_ for years, and Draco knows it."

Draco was incredulous. "By fucking what?"

Flint's nostrils flared. "You know by what."

"I swear to God, Flint. I haven't a clue. I…" Draco stopped, his mouth falling open. "You cannot be serious."

Flint snarled, waving his arm so that Harry bobbed in the air like a large, naked cork. "Would you care to bet his life on whether I'm serious or not?"

"For fuck's sakes, I was thirteen years old, Flint. Everyone can attest to the fact that I was an ass then."

"I certainly can." Blaise raised his arm sheepishly.

"Not to put too fine a point on it," Harry said, "but so can I."

"See?" Draco would make both of them pay for that later, but for now having Blaise and Harry agree with Flint seemed to amuse him. "I was a total tit to everyone, not to just you."

"But if was different with you and me, and you knew it."

Flint had been the captain of his Slytherin quidditch team the year his father bought the racing brooms. He'd known no one on the team liked him, and he certainly wasn't a great seeker, not at first. Not like Potter was. Even Draco had thought it was a joke when his father insisted his second-year son be made captain, but the other players hadn't wanted to cross Lucius Malfoy. He'd been elevated to captain, and Flint, who was a bully, had been cheerfully dumped by the rest of the team.

"For fuck's sakes, Flint." Draco couldn't hide his exasperation. "It was just quidditch."

An ugly red stain started up Flint's neck, and he was ugly enough without it. 

"It was just quidditch?" Flint's voice had gone soft but there was a tremor in it. "It may have been just quidditch to you, you insufferable arse, but it was all I had. You had Daddy's money, and his prestige with the other Slytherin's. You fucking arrived at Hogwarts with your own henchmen!"

"Crabbe and Goyle?" Blaise laughed. "Combined, they didn't have the IQ of a rock."

Draco shot him an irritated look. "You are not helping."

"I'm sorry; to call those two idiots henchmen…"

"Could we keep track of the plot here, please?" Harry sounded as exasperated as Draco felt. 

"The point is," Flint snarled, "you had everything. You were an obnoxious little shit, and with one wave of his wand your father cleared the way for you. I worked for that team, Malfoy, for years. I drilled them, and planned strategy, and he took it away from me. After that, I might as well have been made of shit for the respect I got in that house. Why do you think I left Hogwarts? My entire family was humiliated. I had to – "

A strange expression passed over Flint's face and he slowly tipped over backwards, falling heavily to the floor. Draco cried out and went for his wand, fearful for Harry's safety, but he drifted to the floor as lightly as a feather. 

"Honestly." Hermione huffed as she came down the stairs and into the room. "I can't trust you two with anything. And what is it about Slytherin villains that they have to _monologue_ before doing anything evil? Voldemort was the same way. Yap yap yap." She stopped, breathing heavily, her hand on her side. She reached out and leaned on Blaise, looking at Draco. "You might want to cover up your husband. The Auror's should be here any second."

"Madam, I'll have you know I took out the other one, so I did do _something_." Blaise took her hand. "All right there?"

"I'm fine. And do you really want kudos for taking out Nott?"

Blaise shrugged. "Point."

Draco hurried to Harry, waving his wand to remove his bounds and quickly restoring the clothes Draco saw piled in the corner. Harry blinked as Draco knelt beside him.

"Are you hurt?"

Harry lifted his hand to the back of his head, rubbing a knot behind his left ear. "Headache, probably because of this goose egg behind my ear, but I'll survive." Draco helped him to sit up, his eyes anxious. Harry reached out and caught one of his hands. "I'm fine, honestly."

"I'm still taking you to St. Mungo's to have you checked."

Harry sighed. "Fine."

Draco shook his head. "Where were you when Flint got you?"

Harry's cheeks turned pink. "Outside the grocery. I was looking at the quidditch scores, ironically enough."

Draco gave him a wry grin. "What am I going to do with you? You're lucky I came along when I did, Potter."

Harry gave him a wry look. "You just happened to wander by this cellar in Little Hangleton, did you?"

"The rings might have helped." Draco shrugged.

Boots sounded on the basement stairs and the room was suddenly flooded with red jackets. Aurors took both Nott and Flint into custody, and tried to interview Harry, but Draco archly informed them they could have their chance once he was done with him.

oooOOOooo

Harry sighed inwardly. He was glad Draco and Blaise had arrived when they did. The idea of Flint touching him made his skin crawl, and the way the ugly bastard had stared at him back in school took on a whole new, nauseating significance. And he really hadn't looked forward to having his head impact the stone floor; dying in Tom Riddle's father's old cellar wasn't his idea of a glorious way to go out. Then there was the whole realization that both Blaise and Hermione had seen him floating in mid-air, slowly rotating like a large, pale, naked piñata. On the whole, the day had pretty much sucked. And now he had another thing entirely to worry about.

Draco had been absolutely right about the fact he was too careless, and Harry knew he was never going to hear the end of it. Maybe he could hide out at Hermione's for a few days.


End file.
